7
The Black Carriage
Axle chased the carriage, catching severe glances from the office workers out on their lunch breaks. He jumped over the mailboxes, benches, and baby strollers in his path with an acrobat’s grace. When the sidewalk grew too crowded and he moved to the street, not even the cars caused him to deviate from his quarry’s path.
The carriage stopped outside a cafe on the corner. A young blond boy, not more than twelve, sat at a table outside the door. He buried his nose in the Hartington World Atlas, which he flipped through with great interest.
Axle considered unleashing the full force of his power on Nuncio’s captors but decided to duck behind a parked car and wait for his best chance at saving him.
Two foul thieves hopped down from the driver’s seat. They approached the blond boy. The tall one tapped him on the shoulder.
“Whatcha reading there, friend?” he said.
The boy bristled, turning his nose away from the odorous men. “Just checking out some maps,” he said.
“You fancy traveling then? We always wanted to travel,” said the tall thief.
“But we was never afforded the opportunity,” said the short one.
“Um… good luck I guess? Nice talking to you,” the boy said. He closed the atlas, folded it under his arm, then stood to leave.
“Hey, we ain’t done here yet,” the tall one said. He grabbed the boy’s arm. “Hot John says you made his doohickey start buzzing. Only two people do that…”
“And you’re way too short to be our leader, Dogboy,” said the short one.
The boy tried to free himself from the man’s grip. “You’ve got the wrong kid. You’d better let me go. My mom’s right inside and she doesn’t like me talking to weirdos.”
“My man, pots and pans,” Axle said after stepping out from behind the car. “How many kids you planning on snatching today?” Axle held up his hand. A small blue spark popped a few inches above his fingers, then collapsed back into his hand. “Let the kid go. You don’t want no part of this.”
The short thief pulled a pistol, leveling it at Axle. “You think that box was picking this guy up?”
“You could be right,” the tall one said. “I’ve seen Dogboy do that before.”
Axle shook his head and laughed. “Sorry, dude, but you done screwed up now.” He held his hand like a gun, his index finger pointing at the men. “Bang,” he said.
A blue bolt shot from his fingertip then down the barrel of the pistol. An orange flame enveloped the thief’s hand, accompanied by a CRACK. The short one howled as he fell over.
Axle blew gently across the top of his finger then smiled at the remaining thief. “Yo, hold up. I gotta reload.” The tall one charged at him. He made a clicking sound with his tongue as he cocked back his thumb.
“Pow,” Axle said then shot a bolt into the thief’s chest. He fell beside his shorter companion. The boy watched Axle from behind a chair.
“Hey, kid, why don’t you help me bust my friend out of this crazy carriage?” he asked. The boy smiled at him for a moment.
“Thanks, I— Watch out,” the boy said, pointing behind Axle.
Axle went to look, but a mallet slammed between his shoulder blades before he could. As he hit the ground a steel-toed boot kicked his gut, then the feet they were attached to stomped toward the boy shaking behind the chair.
“Hey, ya’ stupid, this ain’t him,” Hot John said. “He gots brown hair. Can’t you slobs remember nothing?” He knelt down and flicked the back of his hand against the tall one’s head. No response.
The big brute pulled out Osbert’s device then waved it around the boy. It beeped. The meter on top flashed green. “Huh. You too? Better take ya’ in with the other brat just in case.” He hoisted the tall one up on his shoulder. As he did Axle shot a bolt between his shoulder blades.
“How’s it feel, jerkface?” Axle said. He’d propped himself up with one arm, which left the other free to attack.
Hot John tossed his cohort on top of the carriage then turned to face the minor disruption. “I’m gonna clobber you for that,” he said. “I just gotta get close enough to do it without you zapping me. Hmm…” He looked down at a fire hydrant on the curb beside him. He pounded the hydrant with his mallet hand until it clanged over on its side.
A geyser exploded out of the street, shooting water twenty feet in the air. Axle lifted his hand to strike. Hot John jumped behind the water. Axle followed his target with his hand. His electric charge pulsed through the water then followed itself back into Axle’s hand.
His entire body took on a blue hue for a moment then fizzled like a fuse running out. He collapsed on the ground.
Hot John picked up the boy, as well as the other thief, then jumped into the driver’s seat. Axle heard Nuncio call for him as the carriage pulled away.
“The Greeks thought that each fluid in our body affected general health,” Osbert said. “There were four of these ‘humors’ as they called them: yellow bile, black bile, blue phlegm, and red blood. When their concentration remains balanced one stays healthy. When the humors go out of balance they cause many illnesses… Colds, cancer, headaches, all the maladies borne by modern man. Now, gentle lady, many doctors would call somebody who believed in humors a lunatic. Regardless, I think the great Hippocrates may have given us the key to extending the definition of what a human can be.”
“That’s nice, dear,” the woman said. “Do you happen to have the time?” the old woman said.
“Of course, madam. It would be my pleasure.” He pulled out a pocket watch then flipped it open. “12:15 PM. Should come any time now.” He put the watch away and continued.
“Now, as I was saying, Hippocrates knew these humors needed to work together, but he forgot that they were all contained in one vessel: the human body. When they merge in a precise percentage, incredible things start to happen. It produces a substance I call brown bile, for the color brown is a perfect mixture of all the humors. When the humors achieve a perfect balance, this brown bile forms. It empowers one with a finely tuned idealism, an artistic flair, the desire to protect, and a penchant for rational thought. A man, if the balance is perfect, could tap into abilities you’d find in comic books or science fiction.”
“My great-grandson London likes comic books,” the woman said as the bus pulled up. Osbert stood, offering her his arm. She took it, and he helped her over the small gap between the curb and the bus.
“May you find joy in your errands, dear lady,” Osbert said as she dropped in a few coins. “Please remember not to tell anybody about our conversation. It’s still a theory for now.”
“No worries there, sonny. Good luck finding people for your little play,” she said.
“It’s a theatrical revue,” Osbert said, but the closing doors swallowed his words.
As the bus pulled away Osbert noticed the black carriage approach. He directed it behind the dumpster at the far end of the parking lot then jogged over to greet them. Hot John hopped down and hung his head.
“You look troubled, Jonathan,” Osbert said. “Were you able to find more men this trip?”
Hot John climbed onto the wheel, pulling down the unconscious thief. “I found a couple, but that kid whooped both of ‘em.”
Osbert inspected the thief’s scared chest. “Dogboy? But these look like electrical burns. If you recall, the burns he left on you and the others were more like a sun burn than an electric one.”
“It wasn’t that Dogboy wuss. He could shoot stuff outta his hands though. Like lightning or something.”
“Another superpowered child in Colta City? Astounding. I must study him at once.”
Hot John shook the jester’s hand. The latch clicked open. “This kid was tough. He coulda killed me with powers like that. We grabbed a couple brats what made your box beep though.”
He opened the door. Nuncio and the boy from the coffee shop cowered in the back. Hot John pulled out the device then showed Osbert the readings.
Osbert smiled at the boys then slammed the door. He pulled Hot John’s head close, whispering in excitement: “That device is tuned to the humor concentration I observed when testing Dogboy’s powers. I’m willing to bet your electrical enemy would set the device off as well. What have you said to the boys?”
“Nothing,” Hot John said. “Pulled ‘em off the street, tossed ‘em in, and came right here. We weren’t messing around or nothing, Osbert.”
A sickening smile rose at the edge of Osbert’s mouth. “Fear not, Jonathan,” he said. “You’ve done good. These boys might help us change the Guild into something more. Imagine a thousand thieves with these amazing abilities. Not even that insipid teenage superhero could stop us.”
“Gee, Osbert, I don’t know what you’re saying sometimes, but it sure sounds nice. I wish I was as smart as you,” Hot John said.
“Better to shoot for the clouds and hit the rafters than to never leave the ground. Let’s give you a little logic problem, Jonathan. The children you captured… if you wanted to keep them calm for the trip… Where would you start?”
Hot John gnawed on his lips, chewing over the question in his head. “Uh, I could knock ‘em out I guess. Can’t get scared if yer’ out flat.”
Osbert shook his head. “No, no, no. We want to make them happy children. The answer’s right there in front of you. All children love an amusement park. We’ll tell them the truth. We’re taking them to Curleyworld.”
“See? You got real smart ideas,” Hot John said. “Maybe you better tell ‘em. I’ll stick to the smashing.”
Osbert sighed. “One day, Jonathan. One day you’ll use that brain. Secure our brothers. I’ll subjugate the children.”
He swung the carriage door open again. “Hello there, kiddie-winkies,” he said. “I do hope my associate didn’t frighten you. You boys know about Curleyworld, right? The amusement park that shut down two years ago.”
“My dad took me there when I was little,” the blond boy said.
“Luckily for you both I happen to work there. We’re reopening soon and we’re looking for some special children to come test everything out. We have cotton candy, roller coasters, licorice whips, carousels, swings, and marshmallow pips. Come with us to Curleyworld. It’s the place where dreams come true.”
Nuncio grabbed Osbert by his sweater vest. “You think we’re eight or something, you creep? You’d better let us go or my friend Axle is gonna come and shock the snot outta both of you”
“Oh, Jonathan,” Osbert said, smiling at Nuncio, “we might need to pivot to your plan after all.” He shoved Nuncio away then stepped aside to let Hot John in with the boys.
“I’ll drive,” Osbert said. “Make sure our guests behave until we reach Curleyworld. I don’t trust children who don’t like roller coasters.”
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